Some Personal Reflections on Life Under Lockdown

Initially, my honest reaction to ‘lockdown’ was overwhelmingly one of relief. This surprised me quite a lot, as I value the chance to meet with friends, go out for walks, for coffee, to the cinema and to the Buddhist Centre, etc.

Like many people, I initially believed that there was an overreaction to Covid-19: the masks, the self-isolation, the sealing of borders and the general sense of panic. It was all happening ‘somewhere else’ and would not darken our blessed shores. Naturally, in these days of regular international travel and trade, the virus spread at an alarming rate. I was disappointed by the government's apparent dithering and then relieved when much tighter rules on movement and social distancing were brought in.

The second sort of relief that I experienced was at not having to participate in the insane world of consumerism. What has struck me very deeply is that the vast majority of the closed-down shops and businesses I pass on my way to buy food and other essentials are a manufactured need - nail bars, posh hairdressers, takeaways, jewellers, 20 different clothing and sportswear retailers, even coffee shops and restaurants. For me, many of these larger outlets are motivated largely by profit and to service their shareholders; very few are really there to serve the local community.

The first time during lockdown that I went to my regular supermarket I was shocked and appalled by the evidence of panic-buying. Even the shelves of minority appeal goods, such as plant milks, dried lentils and pulses were completely empty! Was this panic a reaction to fear of not being able to get what you wanted and/or needed, or something much deeper? Rather than carrying on in an normal, measured way, taking one day at a time, many people put into practice, probably even subconsciously, the consumerist doctrine of accumulation – to have more than others is the required way to behave; if you don’t grab what you can, then there’ll be nothing left for you when you need it. Of course, with limited goods in the shops and the supply chain organised to keep stock levels just ticking over, this panic-buying led to shortages for many and glut for some.

I wholeheartedly welcome the ‘community spirit’ which has arisen spontaneously (even Boris Johnson has steered clear of the ‘Dunkirk’ epithet, thankfully), and I am glad that sanity has returned and that shops are no longer running out of baked beans, chick peas and tinned tomatoes! You can even get loo rolls without restriction... This crisis will, sadly for their owners/employees, spell the end for many businesses, perhaps some of which I consider to be a ‘manufactured need’. I take no pleasure in this, but maybe we shall soon have a chance to reflect on the fact that we managed very well for months without multiple takeaways, fancy sparkly nails and £4 cups of coffee.

Personally, I am dealing with the isolation side of lockdown in a reasonably mindful way, I hope. At first, I felt under pressure (from myself) to use the time ‘profitably’. I am pleased to report that it has been, more recently, quite different. I have read a bit, watched TV and movies, played games on my phone, spent time online listening to Dharma talks, meditated, learned how to Zoom, enjoyed Sangha nights via YouTube and had long phone catch-ups with friends. I have also spent a great deal of time outside in our small garden creating planters and other items from recycled timber.

Most importantly, however, I have spent time doing absolutely nothing, just being, observing, reflecting. This ‘disciplined idleness’, as Vajragupta calls it in his very readable book Wild Awake, is no easy task for me; whilst sitting in the garden watching the birds or in an armchair reflecting on something I've read, or lying semi-supine after meditation, the persistent voice of my personal Mara is working away in my head. It’s telling me that I should be doing something with this precious time!

To my delight I am gradually developing the ability to send Mara packing and to enjoy the time I spend in ‘disciplined idleness’. Going out for a walk and really looking at nature - trees, bushes, plants, flowers, the sky – lifts my spirits and has helped me to appreciate the opportunity I have to slow down.

Early on, when I looked back on the days, my default, habitual reaction would be that I hadn’t “got much done”, as if there were an invisible tick-list that needed completing. Lately, however, partly thanks to Vajragupta, I have begun to enjoy my periods of mindful ‘idleness’ and downtime. I now welcome them as a way of reflecting on and dealing with this rather weird time in our lives.

Finally, I’m still struggling to stay off bloomin’ Facebook and WhatsApp, so it’s not all plain sailing by any means...

Keith Daultrey

Gareth Austin